


A Joint Venture II: Code 207

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-06-01
Updated: 1999-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: This story is a sequel toA Joint Venture.





	A Joint Venture II: Code 207

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

A Joint Venture II: Code 207

 

(Stand back, folks, they're at it again�)  
 **  
A note from Ashley Calvert:  
** Okay guys, we had a lot of fun with A Joint Venture. But, predictably,  
we got bored and within the first week of finishing it and decided to  
start this one. So this isn't really a sequel, but our characters (E.J.  
Ramis and Claudia Reid) are showing up again. And if you've read A Joint  
Venture (then I love you!) then you're probably scared this one will  
be as long. 'Fraid not, folks. AJV was near 100 pages, this one's only  
about half that. And also, you may be wondering, 'Can they write a story  
where no one goes to the hospital?' The answer is� no. We're working  
on it. My thank you kindly's go out to Ben and Michele, two people who  
may never realize just how big of an encouragement they were. Also my  
Mom, who helpfully pointed out that bacon does *not* explode, but potatoes  
do, so I had to have E.J. blow up the homefries instead of the bacon,  
(you'll figure it out when you read the story), and my co-author/cohort  
in crime for being my inspiration, accomplice, encouragement, and friend.  
("Let's mess with their heads!")  
  
 **A note from Ashley Sametz:**  
Hey, howcome you got to do yours first...? Oh well. Ditto on what Ash  
said. RayK warning! What can we say, we love the guy. TYK's to my mum,  
who is a great help when it comes to the medical procedures(we use a  
lot of them), my Barbara's buddies, Kitt, Oasis and Freak, who I can  
always throw an idea at, and have one even more insane thrown back(No,  
no Assley, *this* is crazy...) that kind man on the HMCS Haida who told  
me all about those flag signals, my uncle, who is a great help when it  
comes to the police terminology, and Cody, who gets me out of the house  
twice a day. And last, but never least, my Alterash. I couldn't ask for  
a better person to write with, mess with peoples heads with, call a Damn  
Yankee, or say "Oh..I've been drinking.." to.  
 **A Joint Venture II: Code 207** �  
Ashley Sametz and Ashley Calvert, 1998  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Introduction**  
  
        "He's making you  
work Friday night?"  
  
        Claudia Reid nodded sadly.  
"Yup, that's Benny for you." Francesca Vecchio shook her head  
sympathetically. Constable Benton Fraser and Detective Ray Vecchio walked  
up to Claudia and Francesca.  
  
        "Claudia, Ray and  
I are going out to investigate a hit-and-run. Would you two like anything?"  
  
        Francesca put on a charming  
smile. "Fraser, that's so kind of you to offer. I'd love a French-vanilla  
mochachino."  
  
        "Claudia?"  
  
        She shook her head and  
continued typing. "Unless you can get me out of working tonight,  
nope. Thanks anyway though."  
  
        Fraser looked at his  
Goddaughter. "Claudia I've already told you I don't like you staying  
home alone when I'm working late."  
  
        "I know, I know.  
Go, investigate. Have fun." Claud sighed.  
  
        "Well, see you two  
later," Ray said to the girls. He and Fraser waved to them, and  
then left the station. Claudia let out another sigh.  
  
        "It's so boring  
doing desk-duty. All we get to do is paperwork."  
  
        "I know Claudia,  
that's the way it always is. Men go out and have fun, and we women do  
the dirty work." They went back to their typing.  
  
        "Umm, Claud?"  
Francesca asked.  
  
        "Yeah?" Claudia  
replied, engrossed in her typing.  
  
        "This thing just  
came up on my screen."  
  
        "What's it say?"  
  
        "Incoming File transfer.  
File unknown. And there's another one that says 'Files will commence  
termination in 50 seconds...48...'"  
  
        Claudia shot up out of  
her chair. "Someone's deleting our files!" she cried. "Where's  
the panic disk?" she yelped, thumbing through the disk case.  
  
        "What's a panic  
disk?!" Francesca shouted.  
  
        "A disk you use  
when you're panicking! How much time do we have left before the files  
are gone?" said Claudia, frenzied, still searching for the disk.  
  
        "18 seconds....Claud!  
Find it!"  
  
        "Where is the damn  
thing?!" she muttered, throwing stuff out of her desk at record  
breaking speed. "Found it!" she yelled, holding a disk up triumphantly.  
Claudia jammed the disk into the hard drive, and quickly hit a number  
of buttons. The computer froze, and then turned off.  
  
        "What just happened?"  
Francesca asked.  
  
        Claudia shook her head.  
"I don't know. What were you doing?" Claudia sank into her  
chair.  
  
        "Ummm, I was retrieving  
new files. Welsh was waiting for some background files to be sent to  
us."  
  
        "Did you go to any  
sites?"  
  
        "No. I just typed  
in the address, typed in a code to access the Chicago PD headquarters  
mainframe, and all these garbage characters popped up on the screen."  
  
        "Then what?"  
  
        "Then a file was  
being sent to me, and another application started deleting everything.  
Do you think it did anything?"  
  
        "I don't know. Re-boot  
the computer, see what happened. Wait. Is the modem internal, or external?"  
  
        "On this one? External.  
Yours is internal. I should unplug it?" Claudia nodded. Francesca  
poked around under the desk, and unplugged the modem. She then flicked  
back on the computer, and hit the switch on the monitor. The screen lit-up,  
and Franny sat in her chair.  
          
        "There's something  
on my desktop."  
  
        "Open it."  
  
        Franny double-clicked  
on the icon, and a file opened up. It was blank.  
  
        "It's locked."  
She told Claudia.  
  
        "Type in the password  
for the Chicago PD headquarters' files." Francesca did so, and the  
document opened. "What is it?"  
  
        "Names...."  
she said. "Nothing but names....But I know all of them. They're  
all gang members." Claudia leaned forward, and put her glasses on.  
She stared at the screen.  
  
        "What gang do they  
belong to?"  
  
        "Not one specific  
one..."said Franny as she scrolled down the page. "A whole  
bunch....The Cryps, La Familia� Rollin' 22's� RedBlades�  
HardNox� Rascalz� everyone."  
  
        "Who's got connections  
to all these gangs?" Claudia asked. "It's gotta be his information."  
  
        "Teo Campitelli-Fernendez.  
Italian-Hispanic guy. Has more connections than.... well, he's got a  
lot of connections." **  
**  
"O.K., exit the  
program."  
  
        Francesca pressed a number  
of buttons, and then escape. But instead of exiting the program, more  
appeared on the screen.  
  
        "Holy...."  
  
        Pin numbers, rendezvous  
points, telephone numbers and addresses appeared on the screen beside  
almost all the names. Printed in the top left margin of the file was  
the word "Xlist".  
  
        "What did you hit?"  
  
        "I don't know. I  
think I skipped a button," explained Francesca.  
  
        "Do you know what  
this is?" Claudia stated, not asked. "We've got almost every  
single person who's a part of organized crime in front of us. When this  
file began to transfer, he probably tried to wipe it out. That's why  
everything was going to delete." Claudia thought for a moment. "Save  
it to disk."  
  
        Francesca pulled a Memorex  
disk out of her file cabinet, and saved it as 'xlist.txt', in read-only  
format. She then checked to make sure none of the files had been erased.  
  
        "Hey, Claudia. Do  
you think Fraser'll be impressed enough to take me out to dinner?"  
 **  
**  
"Sir?"  
  
        Lt. Welsh looked up from  
his elegantly layered sandwich. He carefully eyed the two anxious-looking  
females that were now blocking the door to his office.  
  
        "Yes, Ms. Vecchio?"  
Francesca and Claudia took this as permission to enter. Franny quickly  
sat down and tapped the black plastic disk on his desk. She grinned at  
him. "What might this be, Ms. Vecchio?" Welsh asked with typical  
suspiciousness.  
  
        "That might just  
be the most unbelievably valuable information you've ever seen, Lieutenant,"  
Francesca said, beaming. She placed the disk in front of his tie. Welsh  
raised an eyebrow at the disk.  
  
        "Sir, someone tried  
to hack into one of our computers and upload a major deleteall file.  
We managed to stop the transfer in time, and when we rebooted, this file  
was left. It should have been erased with the rest of the files, but  
since we intercepted the nuke, it was left on the desktop instead,"  
Claudia explained.  
  
        "And what's in the  
file?" Welsh said, his visible skepticism apparently decreasing.  
  
        "Everything,"  
Franny said, leaning forward. "Absolutely everything."  
  
        "Telephone numbers,  
safehouse addresses, leader profiles� of every detrimental guy in  
Chicago," Claudia told him.  
  
        "What?" Franny  
asked.  
  
        "Oh, detrimental.  
Harmful, unfavorable....you know, detrimental."  
  
        "In this disk?"  
the Lieutenant asked. They nodded. Welsh slowly looked down at the diskette  
and picked it up. He examined it closely.  
  
        "I'll check it out,"  
Welsh said flatly. He looked up. "Well, Ms. Vecchio, if this file  
is as unbelievably valuable as you claim," he said, a small approving  
smile forming on his face, "I think you two earned yourselves a  
night off."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part One  
        No, I'm Francesca**  
  
        "Claudia, mia figlia,"  
Mrs. Vecchio said, greeting Claudia with a wet kiss on the forehead.  
"How are you?"  
  
        Claudia smiled at the  
large, loving woman beside her. "I'm great, Mrs. V. How are you?"  
Claudia and Francesca draped a huge quilt over the fold-out bed in the  
guest bedroom.  
  
        "I am fine, Claudia.  
Are you sure you'll be comfortable in the guest room?" Franny threw  
a few fluffy pillows upon the bed.  
  
        "I'm sure, Mrs.  
V.," Claudia replied graciously.  
  
        "Because you can  
have Francesca's room, if you'd rather," Mrs. Vecchio continued.  
  
        "Ma!" Franny  
hissed. "She'll be fine!"  
  
        "All right. Just  
let me know if you need anything, Claudia," said Francesca's mother.  
Claudia smiled.  
  
        "This is really  
wonderful, Mrs. Vecchio. Thank you very much."  
  
        "Good-night, cara,"  
Mrs. Vecchio kissed her daughter and her daughter's younger companion  
goodnight, then retired to her own bedroom.  
  
        "Okay, Claud,"  
Francesca said. "I'm right across the hallway if you need anything.  
Goodnight." She left Claudia in the bedroom and closed the door  
behind her. Claudia sighed and sat down on the hide-away bed. She laid  
back on the pillows and covered herself with the warm, blue hand-stitched  
quilt. She leaned over, clicked off the table lamp, and closed her eyes.  
  
        Several hours passed.  
Claudia was slowly awoken by the sound of voices carrying through the  
thin walls of the Vecchio home. As her level of consciousness increased,  
Claudia realized the voices, unfamiliar, were coming from Franny's room.  
She sat up sharply in her bed and listened.  
  
        She couldn't make out  
any words, but she knew for certain they were not the voices of any of  
the Vecchio's. Claudia quickly shot out of bed, pulled on her jeans,  
and left the room.  
  
        "Hey!" she  
whispered harshly, knocking on Francesca's door. The voices abruptly  
subsided. She knocked again, this time opening the door and entering  
the dark room. "What �"  
  
        There was a gun in her  
back. She realized with shame that she had made a bit of a tactical blunder.  
  
        "Don't move,"  
a deep, male voice breathed. Claudia froze, wide-eyed. There were four  
men in the room, all dressed in dark black apparel. Two of them appeared  
to be rooting through Franny's belongings, one of them was pointing a  
gun at Francesca, and the fourth was hidden in the corner, holding a  
gun to Claudia's back.  
  
        "Who are you?"  
the same voice demanded. Claudia did not respond at all. She tried to  
look at Francesca for an explanation, but Franny was staring wide-eyed  
at the two men digging into her bureau.  
  
        "Which one of you  
is Francesca Vecchio?" ordered the other man with a gun. Franny  
and Claudia quickly glanced at each other.  
  
        "I am," both  
of them said together. Franny looked at Claudia, dumbfounded. She shook  
her head violently.  
  
        "No, I am,"  
Francesca told the men. One of the men stepped out of Franny's closet  
to inspect the two females.  
  
        "No, no," Claudia  
insisted. "*I'm* Francesca Vecchio." Franny opened her mouth,  
baffled, to speak again, but was interrupted by the man directly in front  
of her.  
  
        "Look," he  
told them, annoyed. "Whichever one of you two broads is Francesca  
Vecchio, answer this �"  
  
        "Yeah?" Claudia  
replied toughly. Franny shot her a bewildered look.  
  
        "Where's the disk?"  
the man finished.  
  
        "What disk?"  
asked Franny. She was jabbed fiercely in the stomach with the nose of  
a .45.  
  
        "You know damn well  
what disk. The disk with the Xlist! Where is it?"  
  
        "We don't have it!  
We � Hey, that is *cashmere*, pal!" Francesca cried at the  
man throwing her clothes to the floor. He ignored her and continued his  
search.  
  
        "If you don't have  
it, where is it?" the second voice croaked. He received silence  
as his answer.  
  
        "It's not here,"  
the man in Franny's closet told him. The man behind Claudia snorted angrily.  
  
        "Well, Francescas,"  
he said bitterly. "Unless you can produce the disk right now, you  
two are going for a little ride with us."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Two**  
 **She Was Probably Kidnapped  
**  
        "Hey, Claudia! Open  
up, Claud!"  
  
        Fraser opened the door  
to his apartment. "Hello, E.J.!" he greeted the girl pleasantly.  
E.J. Ramis stepped into the apartment and returned his warm smile.  
  
        "Hey, Fraser. Is  
Claudia ready yet?" Fraser shook his head.  
  
        "No, actually, she's  
not here. She called last night to say that she was spending the night  
with the Vecchios, so she's probably at the station right now,"  
Fraser replied.  
  
        "The Vecchios?"  
E.J. repeated.  
  
        "Yes, I was working  
late last night, so she stayed there." E.J. looked disappointed.  
  
        "We got hockey tickets  
for this afternoon, I wish she had called me first. Now I have to truck  
all the way over to the precinct to find her," E.J. grumbled.  
  
        "I'm going out now,  
but I'll show you to the payphone outside the building, if you'd like,"  
Fraser said, escorting her back out the door and shutting it behind him. **  
**  
"Yeah, thank you,"  
E.J. said. As they exited the building, Fraser handed her a quarter  
and directed to the phone booth half a block away. Fraser courteously  
left her alone and waited patiently outside as she made the call. E.J.  
entered the small phone booth, picked up the phone and dialed Ray's cell  
phone. Ray picked up and sniffed loudly in here ear.  
  
        "Yeah, Vecchio,"  
he said groggily.  
  
        "Hey Ray, it's me,"  
E.J. said. "Is Claudia there yet?" There was a pause.  
  
        "Well, I don't see  
her, so I guess not," Ray replied. E.J. groaned.  
  
        "Great, just great,"  
she murmured. "If she shows up before I get there, tell her I'm  
giving away her ticket, okay?" Ray laughed at her.  
  
        "Whatever,"  
he said. They hung up.  
 **  
** E.J. hung up the  
plastic black phone and left the small booth. "She's not there yet,"  
she told Fraser. "She was probably kidnapped, and forgot all about  
our plans." She let out a dramatic sigh. "I'll be going then.  
See ya, Fraser." E.J. said.  
  
        "Good bye, E.J.,"  
Fraser replied. "Have fun at your hockey game."  
  
  
        "Why the hell isn't  
Franny here yet? She's gotta do my firearms reports!" whined Ray  
that afternoon. "And where's Claud? Oh man, I bet they're out shopping.  
Fraser, I feel sorry for you. One trip with Franny and she's gonna become  
a shop-a-holic."  
  
        Fraser looked up from  
the book he was reading. "Ray, I'm sure they're not out shopping."  
  
        "Then where are  
they?"  
  
*ring....ring*  
        Ray picked up the phone,  
and barked into it, "Franny, this better be good." He was surprised  
to hear Mrs. Vecchio's voice on the other end of the line.  
  
        "Raymondo,"  
Mrs. Vecchio began, "Where is Francesca? I never saw her and Claudia  
leave this morning."  
  
        Ray was silent for a  
moment. "Wait, you mean they were gone when you got up?"  
  
        "She isn't at the  
station? Where is my bambino?Why did she leave so early?"  
  
        "Mrs. Ve-uh, Ma,  
calm down. I'm sure nothing happened to her. Look, you just sit tight,  
and Fraser and I'll figure something out."  
  
        "But Raymondo, my  
baby is missing! File a report! Do something!"  
  
        "Look, Ma, I can't.  
I mean, not yet at least. I've gotta wait 24 hours before I file a missing  
persons report. And we don't even know if she's missing. She probably  
found out that The Shoe Emporium was having a midnight madness sale or  
something. Don't worry."  
  
        "Don't worry?!"  
Mrs. Vecchio cried. "Raymondo, I will worry! My baby is lost! I  
don't know where she is!"  
  
        "Ma! Would you relax!?  
Nothing's happened to Francesca!"  
  
        Fraser looked worriedly  
at Ray. Ray shook his head at Fraser, and went back to calming his 'mother'.  
  
        "Ma! I promise!  
No, I can't go looking for her right now, I've got other things do!"  
Ray nodded, anger registering on his face. "Yeah, I'm sure he would  
too." He slammed the phone down so hard it bounced off the hook.  
"That woman drives me nuts sometimes! I mean, I'm not....forget  
it."  
  
        Fraser looked at his  
friend and frowned . "Mrs. Vecchio doesn't know where they are either?"  
Ray shook his head.  
  
        "But I'm sure they're  
fine. I mean, with Franny's annoying voice, and Claudia's brains, who'd  
mess with them?"  
  
        Fraser didn't seem convinced.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Three  
Frnunny, Stup Conpaining        **  
  
        "Jesus Christ, what  
kind of cheap rope did these morons buy?! The stuff is cutting into my  
skin."  
  
        "Frnunny, stup conpaining."  
Claudia said to Francesca, struggling to get the gag out of her mouth.  
  
        "And do you think  
they could *get* a smaller car? I mean, this trunk is worse than our  
oven!"  
  
        "Tphhht." Claudia  
spat the bandanna out of her mouth and squirmed around in the trunk.  
She was hoping she would be able to pull out the wires connected to the  
brake lights and hope a police officer would stop them, and search the  
trunk. But since it was so dark, and cramped, she doubted she would be  
able to reach them.  
  
        "...And man, does  
it smell in here, what did they used to do, haul hadavers around in here?"  
  
        "Cadavers, Francesca,  
cadavers." Claudia was beginning to wish they had gagged Franny  
more tightly. She shifted around a little, trying to free her hands with  
no prevail. The mental image that kept coming to mind was being stuffed  
Troy McCallister's locker after drama practice the week before. She shuddered.  
  
        "Okay Franny, I  
need you to do something," Claudia told her. Franny gave her the  
best too-weak-and-feminine-to-do-something-hard look she could muster.  
  
        "How?" Franny  
said. "I can barely even breathe in this salmon can."  
  
        "That's � oh,  
forget it," Claudia said. "You have to do this, it's the only  
chance we have out."  
  
        "Okay Einstein,"  
Franny replied crabbily, "What's your brilliant plan?"  
  
        "You have to get  
my Swiss Army knife out of my left pocket so we can cut off these ropes,"  
Claudia told her. "Do you think you can do that?"  
  
        "No."  
  
        "Franny �"  
  
        "Okay, okay."  
The two of them took several minutes, struggling against the confines  
of the trunk. At last Claudia managed to roll over so her back was facing  
toward Francesca, although this was not accomplished without some measure  
of pain. Claudia's left arm was wedged very tightly between her side  
and the floor of the trunk. Franny was still busy struggling behind her.  
  
        "Okay?" Claudia  
asked, straining as hard as she could to see behind her. There was very  
minimum light inside the trunk, Claudia's own legs were nothing more  
than dim shadows.  
  
        "Uh� yeah,"  
Francesca replied. She tried her best to hobble on her side to reach  
for Claudia's pocket. She accidentally rolled onto her face when she  
lifted her arm up behind her own back. "Ugh!" she shrieked.  
"I think I'm stuck!"  
  
        "Just get the knife  
out, once my hands are free I'll help you up!" Claudia whispered  
back harshly. Reluctantly, Franny fumbled until one hand managed to make  
it's way into Claudia's pocket. She retrieved the knife.  
  
        "Got it," she  
said proudly.  
  
        "Good," Claudia  
replied. "Open it."  
  
        "I can't,"  
Franny said. "It's too dark!"  
  
        "Well then give  
it to me!" Claudia shot back, her patience weakening. There was  
a soft clunk. A pause followed.  
  
        "Franny?"  
  
        "Yeah?"  
  
        "Give me the knife."  
  
        "I, um�"  
  
        "What, what?!"  
  
        "I dropped it."  
  
        "Well pick it up!"  
  
        "I can't see a thing,  
Claud. I, um�"  
  
        "You what?!"  
  
        "I don't know where  
it went."  
  
        Claudia buried her face  
deep into the carpet of the trunk to muffle her frustrated scream.  


  


  


  
        "Oh, this is great!  
Now *Ray* is gone, too!" E.J. cried, throwing her hands in the air,  
defeated. She peeked behind Ray's desk, looking to see if anyone might  
be hiding from her. "This is wonderful. I'm never going to get to  
see the Hawks, I know it," she grumbled, putting her hands on her  
hips in disgust.

        "Dewey!!" she  
called out. Dewey was positioned in front of Lt. Welsh's door. He smiled  
at her.

        "Hey, E.J.! What's  
shaking?" he replied to the tense-looking teenager in front of him.  
She let out a garbled growl.

        "Um, where's Ray?"

        "Ray went to the  
Vecchio's place. Franny and your pal are missing." E.J.'s eyes widened  
fearfully.

        "They are? Where  
are they?" Dewey gave her a very blank look. He knocked on the top  
of E.J.'s head, as if testing to see if anyone was home.

        "Uh, right,"  
she replied, abashed. "So where's Fraser?"

        "He went with Ray."

        "Oh," she said  
slowly. "Um, do they know what happened to them?"

        "Not yet,"  
Dewey replied. He checked his watch. "Ah, I gotta go. I'll see you  
around, kid," he said. She sighed.

        "Yeah, see you,  
Dewey." He exited the station.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Four  
You Get Them Back, Caro**

        "Oh, man,"  
Ray breathed as he entered Francesca's room. "I think I have an  
idea of what happened to them�" Clothes were strewn all over  
the bed and floor, and all of the shelves in Franny's bureau had been  
opened, some laying on the ground. Her room looked like it had fallen  
victim to a tornado.

        "You see?!"  
Mrs. Vecchio cried, smacking Ray in the back of the head. "You see  
what I tell you? My bambino is gone, she's gone!"

        "I'm sorry, Mrs.  
� uh, Ma. You were right," Ray apologized, covering the now-aching  
spot on his head. "Look at this, Frase, all the signs of forced  
entry. They were abducted."

        Fraser cocked his head  
curiously as he made his way into the bedroom. He moved to the window,  
which was predictably unlocked and still well-open. He turned to Ray  
and nodded. "I think you're right. But who would want to abduct  
Francesca and Claudia?"

        Like a sign from God,  
Ray's cell phone rang at that same moment. He popped the lid open.

        "Yeah, Vecchio,"  
he answered. His eyes grew wide as he listened to the person on the other  
end. The room filled with silence as Ray listened to the caller. "Yeah,  
okay," he said. "We'll be there soon." He flipped the  
lid of the phone shut and put it away.

        "Well, Benny,"  
he said, "we got our answer. We gotta get to the station."

        "Who was that?"  
Fraser questioned.

        "Welsh," Ray  
replied. "The abductors called the station. C'mon, pitter patter,  
let's get at 'er."

        "They did?"  
Fraser asked, surprised. "Who are they?"

        "Ever hear of Campitelli-Fernendez?"  
Ray asked him. Fraser shook his head no. "One of the biggest gangsters  
in Chicago. Come on, we gotta go right now." Ray moved out the door  
and Fraser followed him. Before he could exit, Mrs. Vecchio placed both  
of her hands on the chest of his tunic and stopped him.

        "Benton," she  
said weakly. Fraser looked down at the woman before him. "Please,  
Benton, get my Francesca back."

        Fraser took the poor  
woman's hands in his own and gave her a reassuring look. "We will,  
Mrs. Vecchio. I will do everything in my power to get your daughter back,  
you have my word." Mrs. Vecchio looked as if she was about to cry.  
Fraser instinctively brought her in to a hug, and she started to sob.

        "That's your baby  
out there with my baby, isn't it, caro�" she said. "It's  
so hard to be the parent, Benton."

        "Yes it is, ma'am."

        "You get them back,  
caro. Bring them to safety," she said, releasing her hold on Fraser.  
He nodded assuredly.

        "I will."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Five  
I'm sorry, sir. It's dead.**

        "Uh�"

        "That's, um, that's�.  
that's not good."

        "No Ray, I think  
that's quite bad, actually."

        Ray and Fraser crouched  
over Lt. Welsh's desk. The three of them stared at Welsh's computer screen,  
puzzled.

        "It's, uh�  
it's deleting your hard drive, sir."

        "I see that, Ray,  
thank you."

        Ray scratched the back  
of his head, curious to find a solution. Fraser stood upright and folded  
his arms over his chest, thinking.

        "Do you have a panic  
disk, sir?" Fraser asked. Welsh turned behind him and eyed the Mountie  
quizzically.

        "What's a panic  
disk?"

        "Well, sir, it's  
a disk that one would use to stop a virus. E.g., a panic disk would be  
used when one is� panicking."

        The glowing computer  
screen read "C: DELETALL 79%". Lt. Welsh pursed his lips together  
and rubbed his chin.

        "Hmm."

        "Eh�"

        "Claudia would know  
what to do."

        The three continued staring  
at the screen. The percentage bar was still filling itself up.

        "Well, how about  
that."

        "Sir, you didn't  
have anything terribly important on this computer, did you?"

        "Oh, no, Constable.  
Nothing terribly important, no. Just a couple of files and whatnot."

        Fraser leaned over the  
desk again. He knew for certain he should have educated himself properly  
on viruses and their elimination. He shook his head in shame.

        "Sir, you didn't  
perchance invest in a Zip drive, did you?"

        "A what?"

        "Uh, I think it's  
done."

*click*  


  
        The computer's screen  
went all black. The only noise left in Lt. Welsh's office was that of  
the soft hum coming from the near-dead machine.

        "Well, that didn't  
hurt too much," Welsh said, pressing the white reboot button on  
the front of his computer. The computer screen flickered for a moment,  
then went back to black. The hum gave a pause, then resumed.

        "I'm sorry, sir.  
It's dead," the Mountie told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.  
Welsh sighed and hung his head.

        "I, um� I guess  
the Xlist couldn't be copied," Ray said.

        "Guess not,"  
the Lieutenant replied.

        "Now what?"  
asked Ray.

        "We're meeting the  
abductors tonight in Daley Plaza. They want us to bring the disk and  
ten thousand dollars in exchange for Franny and your Goddaughter,"  
Welsh told them. "They said they want minimum officers there or  
no trade."

        "We giving them  
the real disk?" Ray asked.

        "No. I'm guessing  
by the time they figure out it's a fake, we'll have Franny and the kid  
to safety."

        "Gotcha."

        "So sir, who will  
be accompanying you to meet these� gangsters?" Fraser inquired.  
Welsh turned around to face the pair.

        "You two, Huey,  
and Dewey," he replied. "You can go home, get yourselves some  
vests, and be back here at 6:30."

        "Yes, sir,"  
Fraser said. He held the door open for Ray and exited the office.

 

        "Come on, dammit�  
work� work!" Claudia whispered angrily at the wires she was  
tugging at. She twisted her body around and squinted, trying desperately  
to see the wires that triggered the brake lights. No such luck. She couldn't  
even see her hands that were squished tightly in front of her face.

        "Let's go, MacGyver.  
We haven't got all day," Franny whined.

        "Shut UP, Franny!"  
Claudia barked, exasperated. Francesca had no idea Claudia could become  
so irritable, but then again, being trapped within the confines of a  
three-foot trunk with another full-grown woman could do that to a person.  
Claudia tugged at the wires again and listened carefully. At last, she  
heard the faint metallic clicking of a brake lights flashing outside  
the trunk. She breathed a sigh of relief, her plan might just work after  
all.

        An hour and a half went  
by of incessant pulling at that damned wire. Soon, Claudia kept telling  
herself, soon someone will see these faulty brake lights flashing and  
pull these guys over. Soon.

        Her arm was cramping  
up very, very badly. She shifted arms again, and resumed tugging. Another  
hour passed. Claudia was on the brink of sleep, she didn't think she  
could manage pulling on that blasted wire any longer� maybe if she  
just closed her eyes for a second. She wouldn't stop yanking the wire,  
she'd just close her eyes. Just for a second�

        The car stopped. Claudia's  
eyes shot wide open and she listened very carefully to the noises occurring  
outside the car.

        "Franny!" she  
hissed, kneeing her. "Wake up!" Francesca's eyes fluttered  
open. They both became still and silent.

        "Excuse me, sir�"

        "Is there a problem,  
officer?" Claudia realized what was going on. Her plan had actually  
worked!

        "HEY!" she  
screamed. "Officer!! Help! In the trunk!! HELP!" She began  
pounding on the lid of the trunk with her fists. Franny did the same.  
The two were pounding and screaming. Outside of the car, the police officer  
had become more than curious, the faulty brake light forgotten.

        "Sir, would you  
mind opening the trunk for me?" Teo Campitelli-Fernendez reluctantly  
stepped out of the car.

        "We're in here!!"  
Franny screamed. The two were both yelling and kicking as hard as they  
could. They knew by now the officer would come to their rescue.

        "Help!! Officer!!  
We're �"

        Claudia was interrupted  
by the sound of gunshot. The outside suspicion had ceased. She realized  
with an incredibly intense fear that her plan had failed. She could feel  
her face and the back of her neck break out into a cold sweat as she  
realized with horror there would be consequences to pay.  
        The  
trunk door opened and two huge, fierce-looking brutes grabbed them roughly  
and hauled them out of the trunk. Claudia could only manage to stagger,  
since her legs were weak and horribly cramped up. A man with black, angry  
eyes was glaring at both of them.

        "What the fuck was  
that about, ladies? Huh?!" he snarled. "Either of you know  
why my brake lights have been randomly flashing on and off?"

        Both Francesca and Claudia  
met his question by staring down at the road. Neither of them had any  
idea where they were, but it was someplace barren. There was no moving  
vehicle to be seen anywhere on the long stretches of road behind and  
in front of them.

        "I asked you a question!"  
he snapped viciously. Neither replied. When Claudia gained the courage  
to look up, she saw a cop car about ten feet behind them. About two feet  
behind their own car was a police officer lying still in the road in  
a pool of dark blood. She forced herself to look away.

        "I'm going to make  
sure neither one of you pulls a stunt like this again," he growled  
at them. "Harris," he said, motioning towards Francesca. The  
thug apparently entitled "Harris" nodded at Teo, then took  
a firm hold of Franny's arm and yanked her away. He coarsely escorted  
her to the opposite side of the car. Teo looked Claudia right in the  
eye and glared at her.  
        Claudia  
was now very afraid for her own life. She held very still and silently  
prayed for protection.

        The next thing she knew,  
her head had been slammed fiercely against the closed trunk lid. She  
let out of cry of pain as the bright white stars flashed sharply in her  
eyes. She struggled to stand upright, groggy. When she did so she was  
knocked to the gravel by a strong blow to her face. She winced and fought  
as hard as she could to hold back her tears. Before she could even regain  
her strength, she was grabbed quickly by the back of her t-shirt and  
jerked painfully back to her feet.

*Please don't let him hit me again,* she prayed. She was snapped around  
and was faced in the opposite direction. Teo pushed Claudia's head back  
to the lid of the trunk again, although not nearly as sharply as the  
first time. She winced in pain. She could feel her arms being pulled  
behind her back and her hands being tied together tightly. She mustered  
the energy to look up slightly, and saw that Franny was experiencing  
the same hell that she was. She saw Harris hit Franny in the face, which  
sent Franny to the gravel.  
        Fernendez  
was yanking on Claudia's shirt now. At least, she thought it was him�  
her vision was blurry. Why was it blurry? Where was she again? She could  
feel herself being backed into the front of a large man behind her�  
he forced one of those horrible bandannas back into her mouth and tied  
it behind her head, too tightly. She didn't want to be gagged. She just  
wanted� well, right now she just wanted an aspirin. She couldn't  
stand up straight. She�

        Claudia lost consciousness.  
Fernendez picked up her limp body and pushed her back into the trunk.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Six  
Typical Geeks**

 ****Fraser drummed his fingers impatiently on Lt. Welsh's desk. Ray looked  
at him, his eyes clearly saying, 'stop before I punch you.'

"Sorry Ray." Fraser placed his hands in his lap, and made a  
quick glance at his watch. 6:28 p.m. The door opened, and Lt. Welsh poked  
his head in the room.

"Lets go, boys." Ray and Fraser quickly got to their feet,  
and exited the office with Huey, Dewey and two rookies in tow. They walked  
briskly through the station to the parking lot. "Got the money?"  
Dewey held up a black briefcase, and popped it open. Of course, it wasn't  
*all* real, only the top and bottom bills in each stack, making the total  
only about 200 dollars.

"Onwards," said Ray, eyes still on the money. "Fraser  
an' I'll go in my Lex, Duck Boys, take Huey's car with Welsh. The uniforms  
will take a marked car." The group nodded, and climbed into the  
cars. After shouting a few last minute details to each other, they drove  
off. Ray turned the radio on to some rock station, and followed Huey's  
car to Daley Plaza. They traveled in silence.

 

Francesca and Claudia were tired. They were tired because of the lack  
of sleep they got, they were tired because the sleep they *did* get was  
on the floor of a boat house by the lakeshore, and they were tired of  
being transported around Chicago in car trunks.

"Come on girlies, lets go for a little ride." One of the larger  
thugs grabbed the girls by their arms and brought them to a standing  
position. He lead them to a white, un-marked van, with a large storage  
space in the back.

"Let me guess," said Claudia. "That's where we go."

"No," said the man, "but that's a good idea." He  
threw them into the back of the vehicle, and slammed the double doors.

"Nice going, Claud," said Francesca, bringing herself into  
a sitting position, a formidable task, seeing her arms were tied behind  
her back.

"Francesca, shut up. They were going to throw us back here anyway."

"Typical geeks," mused Franny, stretching her legs in front  
of her. It took a moment for Claudia to understand.

"Goons, Franny, goons."

"Goons, geeks, freaks of nature, whatever. You know what I mean."  
Franny leaned back against the side of the van, and sighed. "Do  
you think Fraser'll be at the inchange?" Claudia kept herself from  
correcting her.

"Probably."

"Doesn't he work at the Consulate?"

"He does. But usually nights. Or sentry duty. You know, when he  
stands in front of the building, like a fire hydrant when Thatcher is  
pissed at him? That happens a lot." Francesca nodded, and stared  
down at her feet. An engine roared to life, and they soon became aware  
that they were moving. Claudia swung her arms under her legs, and held  
onto a ladder hook that was in the back. Francesca tried the maneuver  
as well, but couldn't manage to accomplish it. She let out a frustrated  
roar.

"Franny!" Claudia hissed. "Relax!"

Francesca continued to squirm around the van. Claudia watched with mild  
interest, and thought of possible escapes, but the thoughts were quickly  
dashed as she realized that a sixteen year old girl was no match for  
three middle aged men, armed to the teeth. She sighed, and closed her  
eyes. Franny gave up, and also shut her eyes, hoping to catch up on her  
sleep.

A short while later, the van stopped. Claudia opened her eyes, and left  
her state of semi-consciousness, and became aware of what was happening  
around her. She kicked Francesca's leg gently.

She stirred. "Umm...?"

"Fran-cescaaa, we're heee-re," sang Claudia. Franny opened  
her eyes, turned, and peered out the translucent window.

"But I don't see the cooo-ppps," said one of the goons, throwing  
open the door. "Lets go, Francescas." He yanked them out of  
the van, and mercilessly threw them onto the pavement. Claudia and Francesca  
were becoming accustomed to this treatment. "Get up," he commanded  
them. Claud got up without difficulty, as her arms were in an ordinary  
position. Franny on the other hand...

"Ummph." She rolled onto her knees, and rocked back and forth,  
gathering momentum. She finally got up after trying a few times. The  
man grabbed the two hostages, and walked them to the front of the van.  
He grabbed Claudia. "We tied your arms behind your back for a reason,"  
he said, grabbing her jaw, and looking into her eyes.

"Man, invest in some Mentos," quipped Claudia, bringing her  
hands up to her face, and fanning in front of her nose for emphasis.  
The man smacked her. Franny winced.

"Shut up, you little bitch." Claudia reeled, and squinted her  
eyes to re-focus them. The man re-tied Claudia's arms behind her back.

"Hey! Manny! The cops are here!" called one of the smaller  
men from the side of the van. Manny turned his head, and saw the two  
cars pulling up. He smiled, and grabbed the ransom by their arms. "Lets  
go." Fernendez and one other man walked towards the cars, stopping  
about 25 feet away from them. Welsh, Huey, Dewey, Fraser, Ray and two  
uniforms got out of their cars.

"Gentlemen! So glad you could make it!" called Fernendez. Seeing  
the briefcase and disk in Ray's hands, he smiled. "I see you brought  
gifts! How thoughtful!" Ray handed the briefcase over to Fernendez,  
then the disk.

"OK, where's our part of the bargain?" he asked the gangster.  
Manny pulled Franny and Claudia out into view. Ray looked at them with  
pity. "You two look like crap," he mused.

Fernendez snapped his fingers, and his 2 lackeys walked up beside him.  
"Collateral," he said, pointing to Ray. They grabbed Ray by  
the shoulders, and held him tightly. "Hope this is the real thing,  
Lieutenant!" Fernendez called to Welsh. Fernendez opened his own  
briefcase, and pulled out a laptop. Ray began to struggle. Fernendez  
popped the disk in the hard drive, and shook his head. "Bad move  
on your behalf, Lieutenant!" he called. He pulled out a .45 so quickly  
no one noticed it until the shots were fired. Ray fell.

"Ray!" Francesca struggled against her abductors hold. She  
bit his hand. He loosened his grip and cursed, but she still couldn't  
get out of his grasp.

By this time, Welsh and his men, had drawn their weapons, but not fired,  
for fear of hitting Francesca or Claudia. Manny threw Claudia and Francesca  
back into the van and got in. Welsh then ordered to fire. Fernendez quickly  
ran into the van, and was followed by the smaller man, but he was stopped  
as a bullet his him in the shoulder. He stumbled, then fell. The van  
sped away. Ray got up, and pulled his cuffs out of his back pocket. Welsh  
went to assist him.

"I told you to wear a vest," he said.

"And I am eternally grateful," replied Ray.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Seven  
        How was I supposed to  
know?  
**  
        The next day came, and  
as predicted, Claudia and Francesca were once again bound, gagged, and  
tossed into the back of a white van. By this time, the two of them didn't  
even complain; they were simply obedient in the quiet hopes they would  
not be so severely manhandled. However, on this particular road trip,  
one of Fernendez's lackeys was accompanying the two hostages in the back  
of the van. He sat opposite Francesca and Claudia, one hand on his gun,  
the other on the floor of the van to brace himself. He seemed expressionless;  
aside from the occasional apathetic glances he threw at the two women,  
his eyes remained fixed on whatever it was that was so intriguing behind  
them.

Back in the station, Welsh was preparing his officers for one more excursion.  
He silently ran through each of his men. Standing in his office was Ray  
and the Mountie in the corner, Huey on his couch, and two blue and whites  
leaning against a wall. That counted five, not including himself.

        "Jack, where's Dewey?"  
asked Welsh. Huey shrugged his shoulders.

        "I don't think he  
knows we're doing the second exchange today," Huey replied.

        "Constable, would  
you be so kind�?" Welsh asked Fraser, motioning to go after  
the missing officer.

        "Yes, of course,  
Lieutenant," Fraser replied graciously. He exited Welsh's office.

        "So what's the plan,  
sir?" asked one of the rookies.

        "We give them the  
disk, they give us the hostages. That's it," Welsh replied.

        "And it's the real  
disk this time?" Ray asked.

        "Yeah. You all have  
your vests on, right?" Welsh asked his officers. They all nodded.  
"Good," he said. "Then we're just waiting on Dewey."

        "Sir," Ray  
began hesitantly, "What if � what if they don't give back the  
hostages?"

        "Then we fire. But  
not before then, understand?" Welsh replied, nodding at the other  
officers.

        "Sounds risky,"  
Ray said, a hint of disappointment showing through in his voice.

        "It is," Welsh  
said quietly.

        A moment later, Dewey  
walked into the office, escorted by Fraser. "Sorry about that,"  
Dewey apologized. "I thought it would be somebody else's turn besides  
me to do the second exchange."

        "All right, let's  
go," Welsh motioned.

 

        "Out, Francescas,"  
the gangster sitting across from the hostages ordered tonelessly. Both  
Francescas obediently hopped out of the van, stumbled to get their balance,  
and awaited their next instruction. The goon looked for the signal from  
Fernendez, and all three abductors started to move in the direction of  
the awaiting police officers.

        Fraser was the first  
to notice how unhealthy both females looked. They were being escorted  
roughly behind Fernendez, both of them pale and weak. When the gangsters  
arrived in front of the cops, Fernendez gave Ray an acidic smile. Ray  
glowered back at him bitterly.

        "Nice to see you  
again, gentlemen. You've brought the real disk this time, I presume?"  
asked Fernendez, looking down at the black plastic disk Ray was holding  
in his hand.

        "Give us the hostages  
first," commanded Ray, staring Fernendez right in the eye.

        "Not so fast, Detective.  
Why should we trust you?" Teo asked, turning behind him and yanking  
Franny in front of him. He slowly pulled out his gun and brought it to  
Francesca's neck. "I don't think we want to risk it. And I'm sure,  
Detective, that you don't want to run any risks either," Teo said  
in a low voice, cocking the gun against Franny's neck for extra emphasis.

        "You son of a bitch�"  
Ray growled. Fraser, sensing impending danger, immediately stepped forward  
and placed a hand on Ray's shoulder. "�That's my sister!"  
snarled Ray, lunging for Fernendez. Fraser and Welsh instantly grabbed  
Ray and restrained him just as Fernendez's two goons reflexively pulled  
out their guns. When the other officers saw the gangsters' weapons aimed,  
they too also unthinkingly pulled out their guns and aimed them at the  
other party.

        "Gentlemen, gentlemen,"  
Fernendez said in a very casual, voice. Ray, now thoroughly irritated,  
began to relax, but did not take his eyes off Fernendez. Lt. Welsh and  
Fraser released their grip on him. "We can settle this in a civilized  
manner, can't we?" Fernendez un-cocked his gun but still held it  
closely to Francesca's neck. With his other hand, he motioned for his  
lackeys to lower their guns. They did so, and the officers reluctantly  
withdrew theirs as well. "Now, Lieutenant, if you would kindly instruct  
your officer to hand over the disk, and this can all be overwith."

        Welsh hesitated, then  
obliged. "Ray," he said, motioning towards the disk. Ray still  
had not removed his eyes from Fernendez. Slowly, Ray uneagerly approached  
one of Fernendez's goons and slapped the disk in the palm of his hand.  
Fernendez made a "shoo" motion with the tip of his gun, and  
Ray gradually backed up next to Fraser.

        "Now," Welsh  
said. "The hostages."

        Fernendez shook his head.  
"Not just yet, Lieutenant. We want to make sure that you haven't  
tried another stunt like yesterday." He snapped his fingers, and  
the goon now in possession of the disk pulled a black laptop computer  
out of his briefcase. The second goon, Manny, appeared from behind Fernendez,  
gripping Claudia tightly in front of him.  
All of the men waited in  
silence as Fernendez's lackey inspected the disk.

        "It's the real thing,"  
he announced, shutting the laptop closed. Fernendez smiled maliciously.

        "Good," he  
said slowly. "We won't have to do this�" In a heartbeat,  
Fernendez had fired his gun. Three bullets escaped the .45 before he  
shouted at the henchman with the disk, "Move!" The goon took  
off in a run.

        The officers looked in  
horror to see where to shots had landed. Fraser and Ray reached to catch  
Dewey's fall, just as he keeled forward, letting out a small cry of pain.  
There was blood, blood everywhere, running from beneath his shirt.

        "Christ, Dewey,"  
Huey breathed, horrified. They gently placed Dewey on the ground, and  
he coiled himself up tightly, his face wrenching in pain. The two uniforms  
took off running after the goon with the disk. Ray and Welsh shot to  
their feet, guns up and aimed at Fernendez and Manny.

        "There was no cause  
for that, Fernendez," Welsh said, trying hard to stay calm. Fernendez  
appeared to have abandoned his casual façade, and had gained a  
frighteningly menacing air about him. "Give us the hostages, now."

        Fernendez took one look  
behind him, detected where his van was, and immediately fired his gun  
twice more. However, the bulletproof vests both Ray and Welsh were wearing  
intercepted the bullets and the shots had little impact. Ray's adrenaline  
was urging him badly to shoot back, but he had little faith that he would  
be able to hit Fernendez, who was using Francesca as his shield. Fernendez  
fired again, but this lucky bullet managed to find its way into Ray's  
arm. Ray yelped in pain and he let out a loud curse.

        Fernendez and Manny quickly  
took off in a fast sprint to their van, using both Francesca and Claudia  
as their armor. Ray, cringing from the hot sting of the bullet, took  
off after them, Welsh close behind. Both Manny and Fernendez were now  
firing openly at them, and, unable to fire back, they were forced to  
retaliate. Ray looked down at his arm, which was covered with trickling  
scarlet blood.

        "You okay?"  
Welsh asked him, moving back towards Dewey. Ray followed him, slowly,  
gripping his injured arm.

        "Ah, no," Ray  
replied, tightening the grip on his bleeding arm. He and Welsh knelt  
down next to the badly wounded man lying on the pavement.

        "How you doing,  
Dewey?" Welsh asked uncertainly, not expecting an answer. The only  
reply Dewey could give was an obscure murmur of pain.

        "We need to get  
him to a hospital right away," Fraser said. Huey nodded, pulled  
out his cell phone, and dialed 911.

        "Why wasn't he wearing  
a vest?" Welsh demanded.

        "Well sir, if you  
remember, no one told him that we were going on the second exchange today.  
So no one reminded him to put on a bulletproof vest, either. I blame  
myself, I was the one who retrieved him from the break room," Fraser  
explained.

        "Where'd he get  
hit?" asked Ray. He looked down at Dewey's severely bloodied front,  
startled. Dewey's injuries were more severe than he thought.

        "In the stomach,  
I think. He might have taken one in the chest, I can't tell," Fraser  
answered. Just as Huey hung up with the paramedics, Dewey briefly gave  
a few more fierce twists of pain, then went limp on the concrete.

        "Jesus, no!"  
Huey cried. "Please, God, no�"

        Fraser placed his hands  
on Dewey's neck and checked for his pulse. "It's okay, Jack,"  
the Mountie told him, Dewey's pulse beating very weakly beneath his fingers.  
"He just lost consciousness, that's all. He's lost a lot of blood."  
Huey was a very strong man, and it was a great change for the other men  
to see him ready to crumble.

        "I can't lose another  
partner, I can't� he's my friend," Huey said, on the brink  
of tears. "I can't lose him."

        Ray removed a handkerchief  
from his pocket and wrapped it tightly around the wound on his own arm.  
Fraser pulled his glance away from Dewey momentarily to examine Ray's  
injury.

        "How is it?"  
Fraser asked his friend.

        "I think it's broken,"  
Ray mumbled. Fraser put his hand out, palm-out, and extended it to Ray.

        "Push against my  
hand as hard as you can," he instructed. Ray obediently placed his  
hand against Fraser's and attempted to push.

        "Ah!" he cried  
as what seemed like his entire right side filled with searing hot pain.  
Fraser nodded his head, verifying his partner's broken arm .

        What seemed like an eternity  
later, the paramedics finally arrived in two separate ambulances. Welsh,  
Huey, Ray and Fraser were forced to back away from the man bleeding to  
death on the pavement. Several EMT's were instantly at Dewey's sides.  
One of the men in a black jacket shouted, "On three!" He counted  
to three, and the men quickly lifted Dewey's body up off the ground and  
onto a waiting stretcher. They wheeled him into the ambulance, the EMT's  
climbing into the back with him.

        "Wait," Huey  
told them. "Let me come, " he pleaded, still visibly shaken.

        "Okay, pal, come  
on," one of the paramedics replied. He offered a hand to Huey and  
helped him climb into the back of the ambulance. "Stay there,"  
he instructed, pointing to a small bench on the side. Huey obliged and  
sat parallel to the stretcher where his partner lay.

        The doors of the ambulance  
slammed shut, and the vehicle roared out of sight, nothing more than  
a blur of blue and red lights, blaring sirens. Fraser looked down at  
the pavement, or moreover the dark lake of blood that Thomas Dewey left  
behind. He briefly closed his eyes and sighed.

        "You're next, amigo,"  
another EMT told Ray. "Onto the stretcher," he ordered, pointing  
to the stretcher that was positioned beside the second awaiting ambulance.  
Ray  
reluctantly hopped onto the stretcher and allowed himself to  
be hauled into the back of the other vehicle. After the paramedics got  
in, Fraser and Welsh followed them and sat upon the bench on the side,  
out of the way.

The ambulance carrying Ray arrived at the hospital only seconds after  
the first ambulance. The three of them watched apprehensively as Dewey  
was carted out of the back of his ambulance and rushed inside. Huey was  
not far behind them. As the EMT's pulled Ray's stretcher out, he instinctively  
sat up to watch what was going on. The paramedic that was stationed behind  
his head took his forehead in her hand and gently pushed him back down  
into a reclined position.

        "I'd better go after  
Huey," Welsh told Ray as they wheeled him into the hospital. Ray  
nodded, beginning to feel slightly dizzy. He blinked hard and tried to  
ignore it.

        "I'm sorry sir,  
you'll have to wait out here," a man in blue scrubs informed Fraser,  
stopping him by placing a hand on the front of his red tunic.

        "See you, Frase,"  
Ray mumbled as they towed him out of his partner's sight. Fraser sighed  
and made himself comfortable in the hard waiting room chairs.

 

        Fraser and Lt. Welsh  
made an unlikely pair, sitting beside one another in the waiting room  
of the hospital. Fraser, sitting neatly in his spotless red tunic, had  
his hands folded in his lap. Next to him, Welsh was slouched over in  
his chair, his tie loosened to the brink of unattachment.

        "This has to be  
the worst part of this job," Welsh said, thinking out loud. His  
eyebrows were furrowed, partly frustrated, partly angry. Fraser did not  
speak. "It's horrible, watching your men go down. Knowing you should  
have been able to protect them." Welsh clenched his eyes shut.

        "This wasn't your  
fault, Lieutenant," Fraser comforted.

        "This is my fault,  
Constable," Welsh disagreed, his eyes still closed. "I was  
supposed to make sure everybody was wearing a vest. And Dewey wasn't  
wearing one."

        "Accidents happen,  
Sir. It could have happened to anyone."

        "It was careless,"  
the Lieutenant retorted. "If he had just been wearing a damn vest,  
this never would have happened." Welsh sighed and sat up in his  
chair. "Just careless," he repeated.

        Moments later, a nurse  
appeared, wheeling Ray in a wheelchair into the waiting room. Ray looked  
like he was ready to pass out right there on the floor. His right arm  
was enveloped in a thick blue cast that ran from his shoulder to the  
middle of his lower arm, which was buried in a sling.

        "Here you are, Detective  
Vecchio," the nurse told him sweetly. Ray looked up at her and smiled  
broadly.

        "Thanks a bundle,"  
he said. His voice sounded as if it could go into a giggle spasm at any  
moment. The young nurse took his un-injured elbow and escorted him to  
his feet. Welsh gave her a grateful smile, and he and the Mountie ushered  
Ray into a chair.

        "Ahh� Morphine?"  
asked Welsh.

        "Percoset,"  
the nurse replied. "Here's his prescription."

        "Thank you kindly,  
ma'am," Fraser said to the nurse, taking the slip of paper from  
her hand. Ray leaned way back in his seat, until the back of his head  
was gravitationally dependent on the wall for support. He rolled his  
head around so he could see Fraser.

        "Hey, Benny, old  
buddy," he said, grinning. "Wanna sign my cast?"

        "Eh, sure, Ray,"  
Fraser said slowly, as if speaking to a four-year-old. "How are  
you feeling?"

        "I've never been  
better," he said, mumbling. Ray closed his eyes. "How are you,  
Benny?"

        "Just fine, Ray,  
thank you," Fraser replied, just as Ray drifted off into a stupor.  
Fraser leaned his head back against the wall as well, and let out a sigh.  
Welsh left to go and find out about his detective.

        A half an hour later,  
Welsh walked back into the room, looking as if ten years had been added  
to his age. He plopped down beside Fraser.

        "How is he, sir?"  
Welsh shook his head.

        "In all honesty,  
I have no idea." Welsh stood up, anxious. "He doesn't look  
good, but he doesn't look as bad as he did." Welsh rubbed his eyes.  
"I'm not a doctor. Why don't you take Ray home. He'll probably want  
to interrogate the guy we arrested yesterday." Fraser nodded.

        "Of course, Leftenant."  
Welsh nodded a good-bye, and left Fraser to deal with the doped-up detective.  
Fraser lightly tapped Ray on the shoulder. "Ray, we'd better get  
going." Ray opened his eyes, which were very glassy.

        "I don't know. What  
if we sink? I can't swim, remember?" Fraser hung his head. This  
was going to be more difficult than he thought. **  
**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Eight  
        Thank You Kindly, Sir**

*grrrr.....grrrrrrr.....*

"Did you hear that? That was my *stomach* , Claudia." Claudia  
closed her eyes. Her headache was back. "Man, I'm hungry. Do you  
know what Ma was gonna make tonight? She was gonna make tiramisu. I would  
kill for a piece of that, I'm so hungry. **  
**  
"Just don't resort  
to cannibalism, Franny," mumbled Claudia, who was making a feeble  
attempt to go to sleep on the floor. Her eyes shut, and she relaxed every  
part of her body. "I feel so grubby," she said, eyes still  
closed. "I've been wearing these jeans forever."

        Franny sighed, and nodded,  
kicking off her heels." I know. And I haven't brushed my hair fo-"  
She gasped. Claudia bolted upright.

        "Franny! What's  
wrong!? Did something bite you?"

        "No! Fraser saw  
me like this!" she cried, horrified. Claudia flopped down onto the  
floor with a thump.

        "Franny, he probably  
didn't even get a good look at you. And please, as a sixteen year old  
girl, I need approximately 9 hours of sleep, at least. So, if you wouldn't  
mind keeping your fears to yourself, I'll be sleeping, right on that  
tarp over there." Claudia crawled over, to exhausted to bother walking.  
She flopped into the blue tarp, and sighed. Franny plopped down beside  
her. Claudia became aware that she was relaxing. Just a few more moments,  
and she'd be asleep....

        "I'm still hungry,  
Claud. And I need a brush."

"Where are they!?" cried Huey. "We gave you our part of  
the bargain. We gave you the disk. And the money. We gave you everything  
you asked for! And what do we get in return?! Two people missing, two  
people we care about, and you've injured two officers. One was my partner!  
Now, you cough up a place, or I'll beat you so hard you'll become one  
with the floor!"

        Ray stood in the corner  
of the room. He was still somewhat out of it, but threw in a comment  
here and there. Fraser sat in a chair opposite the man.  
          
        The man was still silent.  
Huey kicked his chair over and let out an incoherent, frustrated yell.  
Huey leaned on the table, now face to face with the gangster. "Look  
punk," he spat out, " I don't know what you want. Personally,  
I don't care. But we can make you a deal. You've gotta stay here for  
a long time, but if you give a place, we may give you a lighter sentence."  
The man did not find this reason to speak. Welsh entered the room.

        "Hey there Mr. Carter."  
Lt. Welsh said, taking a seat beside him. "You'll be happy to know  
that we've given you a life sentence."

        "What?! I didn't  
even do anything!"

        "Oh! So you *can*  
speak!" The man promptly shut up again. "Look, I'm not joking.  
We can place you at the scene of the crime. You're not talking. You shot  
a cop. You're finished. Twenty-five years, pal. Think about it.

"I have. You can't nail me for anything. I can get the best criminal  
defense lawyer you've ever met.  
Welsh shrugged.  
"I don't know. You see, we've got to keep you here overnight. There's  
a lot of people who don't like you, Mr. Carter. Including us."  
Welsh pointed to Ray. "That guy, he's already un-hinged, so's the  
guy in the red suit. Our security isn't that great. Someone may happen  
to sneak in. Into *your* cell. Get in *your* face. You may not be able  
to meet with that wonderful criminal defense." He turned to Ray,  
in the corner. "Book him." Ray nodded. Welsh walked to the  
door.

        Fraser looked down at  
the table. "Sir, please. We are offering to aid you in your circumstance.  
All you have to tell us is the locale where the hostages are."

        "Why should I tell  
you that?"

        "People we care  
about are missing, Mr. Carter. Now, I'm not sure how you would feel in  
this situation, but we're all quite worried."

        "Which one's yours?"  
Carter asked Ben.

        "The young one."

        "Who's the skanky  
broad related to?" Ray's temper flared. He calmly walked from his  
place in the corner to Carter's chair. He put his good hand on Carter's  
shoulder and squatted down.

        "That's my sister,"  
Ray said, applying pressure to Carter's shoulder and neck. The felon  
tried to turn and see who was hurting him. "And I'd appreciate it  
if you would tell us where she is, so I don't have to keep hurting you."

        "You can't hurt  
me. I'll get you for assault." Ray faced the man's face.

        "Do you think I  
care?! 'Cause I don't. People look at you, know what they see? A wannabe  
bad-boy. Sorry pal, but it's not working!" Fraser tried to calm  
his friend.

        "Ray, you've been  
under a lot of stress, calm down."

        "I'll calm down,  
as soon as a break his neck." Ray's fist flew towards Carter's face.

        "Wait!"

        Fraser stopped Ray's  
fist from colliding with Carter's jaw. All eyes turned from Ray and Fraser  
and faced the man. He let out a shaky sigh. "I-I know where he's  
keeping them." Silence reigned. "Some boat house. By Lake Shore  
Drive. I don't know which one. He, he moves around a lot, just in case.  
That's all I know. I swear."

        Ray nodded, pleased.  
Fraser thanked the man.

"Thank you kindly for cooperating, sir." Ray shook his head.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Nine**  
         **And for God's sakes�  
**  
        E.J. fumbled, trying  
to get her key in the lock of Ray's door. It was still only about 6:00  
AM, she still had time to start her surprise for Ray before he woke up.  
She felt the lock finally click into the unlocked position, and she placed  
a hand on the doorknob and very cautiously opened it. The door squeaked  
slightly, but other than that she managed to get inside inconspicuously.  
She very slowly entered his apartment, turned around, and shut the door  
as quietly as possible. It was still extremely dark outside, and just  
as dark inside the confines of the apartment. Now she would just make  
her way into the kitchen, start cooking breakfast, and Ray would be wonderfully  
surprised when he awoke.

        "Freeze! Hands in  
the air!"

        Startled, E.J. threw  
her hands above her head and quickly dropped to her knees. "Don't  
shoot, don't shoot!" she cried, terrified. She shut her eyes tightly  
as a light flickered on and her pupils dilated. Ray too was squinting  
at the light, and he was one-handedly pointing the barrel of his gun  
at the girl. His other arm was buried deep in a sling. As his eyes adjusted  
to the light, he managed to absorb the entirety of the situation. He  
let out a disgusted groan and dropped the gun to his side.

        "E.J.!" he  
shouted. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

        "Well," she  
began, still facing toward the opposite direction. "I, uh, came  
to cook breakfast for you� you know� Because I thought you'd  
be tired and all, and, uh, what with the arm and everything, uh�"  
Her voice trailed off.

        "For God's sakes,  
put your arms down," he murmured. She immediately dropped her arms  
and stood up to face him. She noticed that he was unshaven, and his eyes  
were a little glossy. Probably pain medication, she thought to herself.  
He let out a sigh. "You really came all the way over here to cook  
for me?"

        She looked ashamedly  
at her feet. "Yeah. I, um� I guess I kind of got lonely. I  
just wanted to surprise you, I didn't mean to freak you out like that.  
You were supposed to be asleep."

        "How can I sleep  
when there's nutbag kids like you trying to break into my apartment and  
use my stove?" he retorted, his hostility apparently subsiding.

        "What did you think  
I was going to do, beat you to death with a waffle?" she protested.  
"I bet if Martha Stewart broke into your apartment, you wouldn't  
hold her at gunpoint."

        "Yeah, well Martha  
Stewart can use a microwave without blowing up the food," Ray said.

        "Hey man, that was  
a long time ago and no one was injured that badly. Get over it,"  
E.J. replied. The both stood silent for a moment.

        "Well, I guess it  
was a pretty nice gesture and all on your part," Ray said, softening.  
"And I could use some breakfast. So if you want to cook, I guess  
it's okay." E.J. grinned at him.

        "Cool. You'll love  
it, I promise." She immediately removed her coat and made her way  
to Ray's kitchen.

        "You did tell the  
Scotts you were coming over here, right?" he questioned.

        "Oh, sure. It was  
their idea," E.J. replied.

        "You've been living  
with your new foster parents for less than a month, and they're already  
trying to get rid of you? That's pretty funny."

        "It's not a wise  
idea to torment the person preparing your food, Ray," she warned.

        "All right, all  
right. I'm going back to bed, I don't think I can stay awake much longer.  
So take your time, and for God's sakes � don't set anything on fire."

        "I won't,"  
she said solemnly.

        "Or blow up anything,"  
he added.

        "I already learned  
my lesson."

        "Or burn down the  
building."

        "Now you're exaggerating.  
Go back to sleep," she told him.

        "Yeah, yeah�"  
Ray said wearily. Before he left, he moved to the sink and picked up  
a small container of pills. He popped the lid off and helped himself  
to one of the large white tablets. "My happy pills," he explained,  
making his way back out of the kitchen. He stopped abruptly before he  
left the room. "Hey, you know, E.J�."

        "What?"

        "When Claudia came  
over here, she cleaned the place for me."

        "I'm not Claudia.  
Don't push your luck."

 

        "Oh God� crud�  
uh�"

        The smell of freshly  
blackened food was slowly filling the atmosphere. E.J. turned around  
to lower the heat on the griddle, but stopped herself as she realized  
her cheese omelets were turning a rather unappealing brown color. She  
grabbed the spatula and quickly flipped the foamy yellow-orange catastrophe  
burning in the frying pan. As the omelet was turned upside down, the  
gooey cheese in the center quickly dripped out and landed in the pan,  
where it immediately became plastered to the surface. The egg-like creation  
was dropped upon it. She had to get rid of that horrible smell, where  
was it coming from?!

        "Oh, shit!"  
she shrieked as she turned around and saw with horror that her pancakes  
had burst into flames. "Fire!" she screamed, lunging towards  
the thick smoke being emitted from the griddle. She grabbed the temperature  
dial and quickly twisted the heat off, but she let out a loud yelp of  
pain when her hand touched the searing hot surface of the griddle.

        "Okay, E.J., stay  
calm. Put out the fire. Put out the fire," she told herself as she  
instinctively brought her burned hand to her chest and clutched it protectively.  
"Put out the fire," she repeated. E.J. yanked the griddle's  
plug out of the wall, then immediately grabbed the thick plastic handles  
of the griddle and projected it into the sink, pancakes, flame, and all.  
She reached over the flames on the griddle to turn on the faucet. She  
quickly pushed the handle on the faucet upwards, sending a large stream  
of water spraying onto the blazing griddle. She yanked her hand backwards  
as she felt the flame touch her arm. The water showering the disastrous  
mess quickly extinguished the fire.

        "Oh my GOD!"  
E.J. screamed as she realized the sleeve of her shirt had become set  
aflame as well. She dove back to the sink and hit the water back on,  
engulfing her arm in the cool water. She breathed a sigh of relief as  
she soaked her burned arm in the chilly water. She stood still for a  
second, hovering over the sink. She would just take a moment to relax.

*EEE EEE EEE EEE!!!*  


  
        "AUGH! Smoke alarm!"  
E.J. cried, slapping her hands to her head. She quickly climbed up on  
Ray's kitchen counter and reached up to the squealing smoke alarm. She  
removed the lid and yanked out the alarm's batteries. The high-pitched  
drone ceased, and the flashing red light that was blinking in the center  
went dead. E.J. relaxed again. She leaned down slowly and sat upon the  
countertop.

        "E.J.!!! What the  
HELL is going on in here?!" Ray barked at her. She winced with the  
same look of fear that a four-year-old gets when she's about to be reprimanded.

        "Uh� breakfast  
didn't turn out so well. Sorry," she said weakly. Ray's jaw dropped  
as he saw the total disaster his kitchen had been transformed into. His  
eyes widened, he apparently had a very sudden loss of words. His jaw  
hung well open as his eyes went from the black, bubbly object smoking  
in the pan on his stove to the steamy silver griddle emitting a trail  
of gray smoke. There appeared to be some kind of crusty, charcoal-black  
dough glued to the griddle's surface. He closed his eyes and hung his  
head.

        He opened his mouth to  
speak, but stopped himself as he heard a faint, sizzling, humming sound  
coming from the side of the kitchen.

        "E.J�"  
he said slowly. The girl did not have the courage to look him in the  
eyes. "What's that noise?"

        E.J. was staring at the  
floor, but slowly looked up and listened. The humming grew louder and  
more vehement. Her eyes flew wide opened as she saw the cooking potato,  
her plans for homefries in an early stage, droning loudly in the microwave.

        "Oh my�"  
she said very softly. The humming became more intense. She jumped off  
the counter.

        "Oh my God! Hit  
the deck!!" she screamed. They both dropped to the floor and covered  
their heads in the same instant the microwave door flew wide open and  
the huge potato exploded.

        Ray and E.J. remained  
silent, lying on their stomachs on the cold linoleum floor. After a few  
moments, Ray dared to look up from his elbow, which he had been burying  
his face in for protection. E.J. did the same.

        "E.J�"  
he began slowly. "How on earth could anyone�" He slowly  
stood up and observed the damage. "How the hell did you manage to�"

        E.J. stood up and backed  
herself into the corner of the kitchen. She was clutching her burned  
arm in her hand.

        "I mean, how could  
you possibly�"

        Ray closed his eyes and  
shook his head.

        "You know, E.J�"  
he began again, words still failing him. "I only gave you three  
instructions� do you remember what they were?"

        "Uh-huh," she  
said weakly.

        "What were they,  
E.J.?"

        "Um� Don't  
set anything on fire�"

        "And?"

        "Don't blow anything  
up�"

        "And�?"

        "Don't burn down  
the building�" she said, avoiding his glare.

        "Well?!" he  
said angrily.

        "Um� well,  
uh�" she said, cautiously looking up to face him. "At  
least I didn't burn down your building, right?"  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Ten**  
         **A Sailboat, Mr. Bond?**

        Claudia cracked her neck  
and sat up. She was thirsty. And hungry. She pinched the skin on the  
top of her hand. It stayed up for a moment, then went back into it's  
normal state.

        "Great. I'm dehydrated,  
too." Beside her, Franny let out a sonic-boom of a snore. "Oh,  
come on, Franny," she grumbled, "you had to add just one more  
dose of hell to this nightmare, didn't you? Snoring all night?"  
Claudia stood up and dusted the dirt from her jeans. Just as soon as  
she twisted around to crack her back, the door of the boat house swung  
open violently. Claudia gave Franny a small kick in the leg, and Franny  
slowly came to and sat up, squinting into the morning sunlight.

        "Up and at 'em,  
Francescas. We're going for another ride today," Manny told them,  
a smirk plastered on his face. Franny covered her eyes with her hand,  
shielding her vision from the bright daylight. Manny entered the cramped  
boathouse with a henchman at his side. He pointed to Francesca and the  
goon immediately grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. Manny  
took hold of the back of Claudia's shirt and dragged her outside. Franny  
simply rolled her eyes.

        "Where are we going?"  
asked Claudia. Manny did not speak; instead, he used the tip of his gun  
to point to two small speedboats that were positioned at the edge of  
a tiny private dock overlooking a vast edge of water.

        "Ahh. Boat,"  
Claudia said, mocking him understandingly. Manny gave her a shove.

        "Move."

 

        "Hi Elizabeth, my  
name is Dr. Ericson," the young redhead said without looking up  
from the manila folder.

        "Uh, it's E.J.,"  
E.J. corrected her, embarrassed. Standing next to her, Ray gave a small  
snicker. Dr. Ericson looked up from the folder very suddenly and eyed  
the girl with surprise.

        "Oh!" she exclaimed.  
"Hi, I � I didn't recognize you," she explained. She looked  
to Ray and grinned at him. "Hi, Ray," she said. E.J. looked  
beside her to see that Ray too had a small foolish smile on his face,  
which he was trying to cover with his left hand. E.J. raised an eyebrow.

        "Ah, correct me  
if I'm wrong, Doctor, but I think the last time we met was directly after  
Ray's face had a rather violent encounter with the side of a door, right?"  
E.J. asked. The adults exchanged glances.

        "The last time we  
met, you were in a coma, E.J.," Dr. Ericson told her. "I'm  
glad to see you're doing better." E.J. became quiet. Dr. Ericson  
glanced down at the thick cast on Ray's arm. "What happened to your  
arm? Another '2 by 4'?"

        "No, bullet,"  
Ray replied, a hint of pride showing through his voice. The doctor nodded.

        "So what's the trouble  
today, miss? You burned your arm?" Dr. Ericson asked her, placing  
the manila folder down on the bed upon which E.J. sat.

        "The punk arsonist  
tried to burn my kitchen down and set herself on fire," Ray muttered.

        "Ah, no, not exactly,"  
E.J. corrected him. "I was simply trying to fix breakfast for my  
dear friend Ray �" Another snicker interrupted her. She ignored  
it. "But it turned out that his skillet was defective, as was his  
stove, and they were both far too hot, and�"

        "She set breakfast  
on fire and 'er arm got caught in the flame," Ray clarified.

        "Aha," Dr.  
Ericson said, attempting to cover the smirk that was trying to form on  
her lips. "Let's take a look." Dr. Ericson picked up E.J.'s  
hand and carefully rolled up the sleeve of her long-sleeved t-shirt,  
pausing as a sharp wince appeared on the girl's face.

        "I'll be back, kid,"  
Ray told her, moving to leave from inside the curtained-off area. E.J.  
let out a small whimper of pain, and neither woman noticed him leave.

        "Thomas Dewey, please,"  
Ray told the receptionist stationed in the front office. She looked up,  
appearing pained to assist him.

        "Room 316,"  
she told him annoyedly. She returned to her work.

        "Hey, Dewey,"  
Ray said, slowly opening the door to the hospital room. Dewey rolled  
his head around to face Ray. There was another patient lying in bed across  
the room from him, a small old woman who appeared to be whispering to  
another invisible person. Ray shook his head.

        "Hey, Vecchio,"  
Dewey said quietly, smiling. "You came all the way over here just  
to see me?"

        Ray hesitated before  
he answered. "Ah, yeah," he replied.

        "Cool," Dewey  
answered. Ray looked down at recognized the glaze that had formed over  
Dewey's eyes.

        "So�"  
Ray began awkwardly. "Does it hurt a lot?" Dewey returned his  
question with a very blank look.

        "Uh, yeah,"  
he answered.  
 **  
** Dewey became silent.

        "Why so quiet, Tom?"  
Ray asked. Dewey studied the bracelet on his hand for a moment.

        "You know Ray, I  
could have died."

        Ray nodded. "Yeah?  
Any of us could. That's part of the job, Dewey, you take risks."

        "I don't think I  
want to take those risks anymore, Ray." It took a moment for Ray  
to realize what Dewey was saying. "I want to quit the force,"  
he said, just in case Ray missed the point.

        "Tom... wh.. Why?"

        "I'm only 33, Ray.  
I've got a lot of stuff I want to do. Get married, have some kids..."

        "And you can't do  
that while still on the force? What are you gonna do if you quit?"

        "Sell fish?"  
Ray didn't smile.

        "Look, Tom. You're  
willing to give up a job, a job you're good at, because of one incident.  
One little incident that won't even affect you long term. The doctor  
said that there was no permanent damage, what have you got to lose?"

        "My life? Look Ray,  
I was lucky that time. Another inch, and I'd be a goner. Next time....I  
might not be that lucky."

        "So you're gonna  
quit because you're afraid this might happen again."

        "Pretty much, yeah."  
Ray hung his head, shaking it. "Can you give Welsh my shield?"

        "He's going to want  
to talk to you, Dewey." Ray took the badge from Dewey's bedside  
table and left the room. "Sell fish...yeah, right, Tom." Ray  
turned and exited the room.

        Ray almost physically  
walked into E.J. in the hallway. "Hey!" she said. "Look,  
cool bandage, huh?" she said, extending her wrapped arm for Ray  
to examine.

        "Wow E.J., that's  
really special," Ray told her dryly. She glared at him, then realized  
his own arm was covered in a much larger, more impressive-looking cast.  
"You ready to leave, or do I have to sign you out or something?"

        "Wait, don't I get  
to see Dewey too?" she protested. Ray gave a long sigh.

        "Sure, I don't care.  
I'll be out here." Ray walked away. E.J. wondered what had made  
him so suddenly irritable � more so than directly after she caused  
his kitchen to explode, nonetheless.

        "Hey, babe!"  
E.J. greeted her favorite detective with a playful smile. Dewey looked  
up at the girl and grinned.

        "Hey, sugar,"  
he replied. He noticed her freshly wrapped arm.

        "Man, what happened  
to you?" he asked her.

        "Freak kitchen accident,"  
she explained. "Not nearly as bad as a few bullet holes, but, you  
know�" her voice trailed off. She was happy to see Dewey recovering  
so well. "So when you coming back to work, Dewey?"

        She was giving him those  
eyes. Those big, innocent, still-just-a-dumb-kid eyes. He took a deep  
breath.

        "Well, ah�  
I don't know if I'm coming back, Eej," he said slowly. She narrowed  
her eyes at him.

        "You don't know?  
What do you mean?"

        Dewey sighed. This would  
be hard enough to explain to the Lieutenant, he really wasn't in the  
mood to explain it to his groupie just yet.

        "I don't know,"  
he replied. "Just� scared." Dewey made his point as briefly  
as possible. Evidently, his answer wasn't satisfactory. E.J. frowned  
at him.

        "You� you're  
quitting?" He couldn't look at her. He knew not to. If he looked  
up, he'd be sorry. Her face looked�

        Sad. Argh, why did he  
look up?!

        "I don't know, Eej.  
I think I am," Dewey replied. "I haven't really decided�"

        "Jeez, Dewey�"  
E.J. said, uneasy. "I don't believe you, man. You can't quit."

        Dewey did his best not  
to roll his eyes. He didn't care to hear other people telling him how  
wrong he was. He needed someone to back him up.

        "Sorry�"  
was all he managed to say. E.J. glared at him.

        "Yeah, you're sorry,"  
she repeated in a low, quiet voice, almost to herself. "I looked  
up to you, Dewey."

        Dewey was feeling more  
isolated than he had before. He let out a very languid breath, then looked  
up to E.J. for any kind of compassion. He didn't get any.

        "I'll see you, Dewey,"  
she said quietly before she walked out of the room.

 

        "Stay here. I'll  
be right back." Claudia and Franny were shoved into one of the cabins.  
Manny left to speak to Fernendez. They were on a boat, anchored about  
100 feet away from the dock.

        "O.K. I'm worrying,"  
said Francesca to no one in particular. "We're on a boat, probably  
going to go to some distant country, and be sold as slaves." Franny  
buried her head in her hands. Claudia's eyes wandered around the cabin.  
Her eyes fell upon a bunch of flags stuffed in a bookshelf. Her eyes  
went from the flags to the windows.

        "Not if I can help  
it," said Claudia, jumping out of her chair. She sorted through  
the flags. "Woo-hoo! We're saved!" she whispered to herself  
as she pulled out two flags. One was checkered blue and white, and the  
other was striped blue, white, red, white, blue.

        "What are we going  
to do, Mr. Bond? Make a sailboat?" Claudia shook her head and opened  
the window and closed it on the two flags.

        "Nope. We're signaling  
to people. The checkered one is November, the striped on is Charlie.  
It's a flag signal. It means 'I am in distress, and need immediate assistance.'  
So, if anyone sees it, they'll come, and see what's wrong."

        "What if Fernendez  
shoots him, like he did the cop?"

        "Oh, right...crap.  
Well, maybe it'll be the navy seals or something."

        "Seals? I don't  
think so."

        Claudia shrugged. "Well....what  
if Ben comes? They probably got something from that guy Ray arrested,  
right? So, if Ben sees this, then they'll assume we're in here."

        "And what if the  
don't know flag signals."

        "Must you be so  
pessimistic? And Benny knows them. So there." Claudia sat back down  
in her chair. Fernendez entered the room, grinning.

        "Hello, girls,"  
he spat, cuffing them to the chairs they were in. He opened a suitcase  
that had already been previously placed on the desk beside them.

        "What's that?"  
Claudia asked.

         Fernendez clicked something  
on inside the suitcase and turned away. "A device which will dispose  
of you two, and this boat, in a very easy, very quick procedure."

        Francesca shook her head,  
confused.

        "It's a bomb, Franny,"  
said Claudia, hanging her head.

        "You've got ten  
minutes to live. It's been a pleasure." Fernendez took a dramatic  
bow and left the room. Francesca and Claudia looked at each other, then  
the bomb.

        "Oh dear."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Eleven**  
         **Go Fish**  
          
        Welsh tried his best  
to ignore the old woman that appeared to be talking to an invisible friend  
when he entered the hospital room. There was a chair beside Dewey's bed,  
but he did not take it. Instead he remained standing, a tower shadowing  
over Dewey like God upon a frightened village.

        "Sir," Dewey  
greeted the Lieutenant.

        "Dewey," Welsh  
replied tonelessly. Dewey tried his best to decipher the deadpan expression  
on the Lieutenant's face; was it disappointment? Dissatisfaction? Or  
even� anger? Oh, man, he was in for it now.

        "So Vecchio tells  
me you're packing it in," Welsh said, not shaking the void look  
from his face.

        "Uh, yes sir,"  
Dewey replied, looking up. "I, I think I am."

        "You think you are,"  
Welsh repeated. "Any particular reason why you think you are?"  
Dewey looked around uncomfortably.

        "They � they  
pulled a bullet out of my chest, sir�" Dewey began. "They  
told me I was a lucky one. One more inch and I wouldn't have made it."  
He broke eye contact as he became more deeply involved in his thought.  
"Well, I don't know what they think, but taking a couple shots in  
the gut and one in the chest isn't exactly lucky in my book."

        Welsh was silent for  
a moment. Although he did not allow his officer to see it, his insides  
were slowly twisting with guilt. Dewey may not have known it, but Welsh  
knew � he should have been wearing a vest, it was Welsh's fault.  
He was slow to speak.

        "So that's it, huh,"  
he started. "You take a few close hits, and all of a sudden you  
wanna throw in the towel, run off with your tail between your legs?"  
Dewey regained eye contact and lowered his brow at the Lieutenant. "Is  
that what you want, Dewey? Quit the force?"

        "I� I don't  
know. I just don't want to take those kinds of risks anymore, I'm not  
ready to give it all up for some stupid accident." He waited inside  
a horrible, awkward moment, waiting for Welsh to reply. He remained cold  
silent. Finally, Welsh looked up from his gaze on the floor and looked  
Dewey right in the eye.

        "Fine."

        This took Dewey by surprise.  
"What?"

        "I said, fine. If  
that's what you want, then go."

        "It is?" Dewey  
said, suddenly wishing his prepared speech had included a bit more melodrama.

        "Sure, Tom. I don't  
need men on my team that are too afraid to go out there and do their  
job. If your heart's not in it, I don't want you around anymore."

        "Welsh, it's not  
that," Dewey objected. "I'm not afraid, I'm just �"

        "You are too afraid,"  
Welsh interrupted him. "And I don't blame you. Go ahead and leave,  
Dewey. You could quit the force, and go where? You could be a busboy.  
Nice, low risk there. Or work at a 7-11. Not too many chances. Or you  
could go sell fish."

        "No," Dewey  
said slowly. "I mean, it's not that my heart isn't in it. I've been  
on the force for more than ten years, I love this job. I just� I'm  
just afraid that �"

        "There, you admitted  
it!" Welsh interrupted again. "You just said so, you are afraid."

        "No, I'm not!"  
Dewey protested. "I'm not afraid of this job!"

        "So, let me get  
this straight. You're not afraid to do your work, your heart's still  
in it, and you love your job. Correct?" Welsh asked him. Dewey's  
eyes dropped in slow realization.

        "Yeah�"  
the detective replied slowly.

        "Dewey," Welsh  
said, speaking in a softer tone, "You really want to do this?"

        Dewey was quiet. He didn't  
think for very long.

        "No, sir."

        "You sure?"

        "I'm sure,"  
Dewey told him. At last, Welsh's face cracked into a much less serious  
expression. He smiled.

        "I'm glad, Tom."  
Welsh turned to leave. When he reached the doorway, he turned around  
to face his officer again.

        "See you when you  
get out of here, Dewey," Welsh told him, reaching into his breast  
pocket. "And here," he added, "this is yours." Welsh  
removed the badge from within his pocket and tossed it across the room  
to Dewey's bed.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Part Twelve**  
         **Not Sharks, Not Sharks,  
Not Sharks**

        "We're gonna die.  
We are, aren't we? That bomb's gonna go off any second now and we're  
both going to die. Claudia! We're gonna die, aren't we?"

        Claudia rolled her eyes.  
She was doing her best to hold her November Charlie distress signal against  
the window of their boat, although the task was made considerably more  
difficult due to the fact that both her hands were handcuffed securely  
to her metal chair. She was using her feet to press the flags to the  
glass, meanwhile hoping her chair would not betray her and tip over.

        "Franny, you're  
hysterical. You're starting to blither," Claudia told her. "Listen  
to me, ok? You need to calm down."

        "How can I calm  
down?!" Francesca cried. "I'm going to be blown to bits, my  
bloodied carcass pieces strewn across the water! We have three minutes  
to live!"

        Claudia sighed. Granted,  
she had been in very few situations worse than this one, but she had  
still survived all of them. Panicking would certainly not help their  
chance of survival.

She felt around the metal cuffs, wondering if she could escape them.  
E.J. knew how to get out of handcuffs, didn't she? Why, oh why didn't  
Claudia ask how she did it? Think logically, now. She must have dislocated  
her thumbs. Wait, ew! That's gross! Dislocate your own thumbs?! That  
would hurt! Her own thumbs couldn't possibly bend that way, could they?  
And even if she *could* pop out her thumbs, how would she get them back  
in? She would have to-

        "Ahh!" Franny  
screamed, her voice violently shaking Claudia from her train of thought.  
"Two minutes and� fifty-four seconds to live!"

        "Francesca!"  
Claudia told her firmly. "Try to stay *calm*, okay? We'll have to  
�"

        A creaking interrupted  
Claudia. Franny looked at her, confused. She opened her mouth to speak,  
but Claudia silenced her with a shush. The two listened closely.

        It appeared that a large  
something, or someone, had struck the side of the captive's boat. Claudia's  
eyes listened with fear; she had read books of passengers whose boats  
were capsized by sharks in search of food. No, wait, that was just silly.  
She knew sharks would not come anywhere near their boat unless there  
was some kind of meat in the water, which there was none. Still, it had  
her thinking.

        Another loud *thunk*  
made her jump. Not sharks, not sharks, not sharks, she silently repeated  
to herself. She and Francesca exchanged worried glances, each one's ears  
still trained on the water outside. Franny looked down at the mechanical  
explosive still sitting on the desk, ready to pounce at any moment.

        "Two minutes!"  
Francesca whispered harshly.

        "Don't freak out!"  
Claudia ordered. "Just stay calm!"

        "I'm not freaking  
out!" Franny shouted. "I am *not* freaking out! I'm a foot  
and a half away from a piece of dynamite that's gonna go off in�  
one minute and fifty-three seconds, but I am *not* freaking out!!"

        Yet another *thunk*.  
Claudia's eyes grew large, she listened as carefully as she could. She  
realized that the noise was not a something in the water, but now had  
become a something in their boat. The two froze.

        The handle on the door  
to the cabin turned. Claudia did not realize that she was holding her  
breath. The door slowly swung open, and in cautiously stepped�

        A dripping wet Mountie.

        Claudia released her  
breath. "Ben!" she cried, ecstatic that at last, for the first  
time in God knows how many days, *something* had *finally* gone *right*.

        "Oh, Fraser, are  
we glad to see you," Franny said, a grateful smile quickly spreading  
across her face.

        "I'm glad to see  
you as well," Fraser told them, displeased to see their visible  
cuts and bruises. "Are you two alright?" Fraser held up his  
Stetson and removed a piece of algae that was clinging to the rim, then  
placed it back on his head.

        "Ah, no, actually,"  
Claudia said, noticing the water that was dripping from Fraser's tunic  
and onto the floor. The Mountie had obviously just been for a recent  
swim. "There's a bomb in that suitcase on the desk, and we're cuffed  
to these chairs," she explained.

        "I see," Fraser  
said, making his way to the suitcase. He bent down to pick it up, but  
stopped as he realized the explosive felt far heavier than it should  
have been.

        "What's wrong?"  
Claudia asked him, panic at last settling in the pit of her stomach.

        "It would appear  
it's drilled to the table," Fraser told the hostages. "If we  
can't throw it overboard, we'll have to jump."

        "Oh, Benton,"  
Franny began, "Please, get us out of here!" Claudia rolled  
her eyes.

        "Can't you disarm  
it?" Claudia asked the him, worried.

        "Well, normally,  
yes, but the clock is running dangerously low, and I'd be afraid that  
if I couldn't neutralize it, we would still be left here during the course  
of its explosion," he explained. "Let's try to get those cuffs  
off."

        "Oh, Ben, do mine,  
please?" Francesca asked him, giving him large, sad eyes. Fraser  
hesitated, looking to Claudia. She agreed silently with her eyes. Fraser  
quickly pulled a thick, sharp chisel and a hammer from the pocket on  
his belt.

        "Ben," Claudia  
said as Fraser began pounding away at the chain on Francesca's cuffs,  
"Why were you carrying �"

        "That's not important  
right now, Claudia," Fraser interjected. "What is important  
is getting you two off this boat immediately." Claudia became silent,  
waiting patiently. Fraser was forcefully hacking the bits of chain from  
Franny's handcuffs.

        Claudia leaned forward  
and glimpsed at the timer on the suitcase. One minute, sixteen seconds.  
She swallowed sharply, feeling her heart throbbing in the back of her  
throat. She would have preferred a rescue with a bit more time to spare,  
really�

        Claudia grew impatient.  
"Ben, hurry!" she told him, just in case he was deliberately  
going slowly.

        "Just a minute,  
Claudia," Fraser told her, not yet seeming panicked at all. He continued  
whacking away at Franny's chain. Fraser's Goddaughter was becoming visibly  
discouraged; surely there was some simpler way to undo those cuffs? Cut  
the chair open? Claudia inspected her own chair to see if a self-rescue  
was possible. It didn't seem that way; the leg of the chair her hands  
were fastened to was some kind of thick, heavy metal. She'd have to break  
it off somehow to remove the cuffs � not likely from where she was  
sitting.

        More seconds passed as  
the Mountie continued chipping at the chain. Claudia nervously checked  
the clock once again. Forty-three seconds. Not good, not good at all�

        "Got it," Fraser  
said, swatting the broken link to the floor. Francesca shot to her feet,  
grinning, and embraced him in a hug. Trying to maintain his habitual  
politeness, Fraser gently pushed her away to free the younger one of  
the two.

        Fraser knelt down beside  
Claudia's chair and began the hacking procedure once more. Thirty-four  
seconds. Claudia pulled her wrists as far apart as she could make them,  
making the chain taut. She clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the chain  
to break. Waiting.

        "Ben�"  
Claudia said softly. At last the panic she had been suppressing earlier  
was suddenly and intensely rising inside her. Twenty-nine. She felt tears  
start to sting her eyes. "Ben, please�"

        "It'll be alright,  
Claudia. Just hold still, I'll get you out of this. No need to panic,"  
he assured her, still hammering as hard as he could on the chain. Twenty-two.  
Something was different with Claudia's cuffs, they weren't the same as  
Franny's� he couldn't quite find the right weak angle to pound into.  
Seventeen.

        Claudia was now staring  
wide-eyed, terrified, at the quickly-moving digital timer. Fourteen.  
Another tear escaped her eye. What was wrong with this chain? Why wouldn't  
it break? Think clearly, Ben, just give it a few more good hits, it'll  
break. One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Still not broken� Twelve seconds.

        Fraser let a frustrated  
groan escape his lips. The noise was overheard by the young hostage,  
pushing her closer to the brink of a nervous outburst. Fraser threw down  
his tools and stood up.

        "Francesca, you  
need to jump," Fraser told her firmly.

        "But Ben, I �"

        "We don't have time,  
Francesca! Jump!" he ordered. Claudia's breathing was near out of  
control. Was she about to be abandoned by her own Godfather? She watched  
as Francesca left the cabin. Ten.

        He did nothing remotely  
in the way of abandoning the girl. Fraser received another jolt of adrenaline  
just as his strongest father-bear instincts were activated. He placed  
both of his hands on the back of her chair, tightly gripping the backrest.  
He leaned his weight backwards, then suddenly projected his foot as hard  
as he could into the leg of the chair. He knew he felt something come  
loose. Seven. More tears were falling from Claudia's eyes as Fraser hurled  
all his tension into the next kick. She cringed, his boot was very near  
her fingers. The leg loosened again, one more kick would do it. Five.  
He shoved his foot as hard as he could back into the chair. The leg flew  
off and sent Claudia flying to the ground. Fraser gave a quick breath  
of relief.

        Three. There was no more  
time to spare, but Claudia did not get off the ground right away. As  
she was leaning forwards to get up, she was startled by the two strong  
arms that picked her up and swept her from the floor. Fraser picked up  
the girl in his arms in a strong hug-hold and went racing for the cabin  
door. He kicked it open, reached the deck, and had one foot on the railing  
of the boat ready to project himself into the water just as the bomb  
exploded.

        It happened so quickly,  
neither the Mountie or the girl absorbed right away what had just occurred.  
The hot, fiery explosion had sent the Mountie hurtling from the boat  
and into the air at full-force, still wrapping his Goddaughter tightly  
in front of him. They both hit the water at a painfully great speed.

        Fraser was the first  
to surface, managing to tread water professionally, despite the RCMP-issue  
boots that were weighing him down. Claudia quickly popped up after him,  
gasping for air. The cold water seemed to slap the hysteria out of her.  
Fraser noticed that she, too, was successfully treading water.

        "Hey," Claudia  
said, beginning to laugh, "my cuffs finally came undone." Claudia  
raised her still shackle-bound wrists up for him to see, the chain link  
unattached at the left cuff. Fraser briefly shook his head at the irony.  
He swam a few inches and pulled his Stetson from the water, placing it  
back on his head.

        "What a relief�"  
Claudia said. However, the same dreadful thought must have occurred to  
her at the same time it occurred to the Mountie. Their eyes grew wide  
simultaneously.

        "Franny�"  
Claudia said, quickly jerking around. As she turned, she saw the few,  
scattered, flaming remains of their recently-expired boat. Fraser scanned  
the surface, searching. He quickly dove beneath the water. Claudia submerged  
herself under the surface and swam a few feet down, not moving, just  
looking. Still no Francesca.

        After several seconds,  
Claudia was forced to return to the surface and take in more air. However,  
Fraser did not surface when she did. In fact, Fraser didn't surface at  
all. Claudia whipped around, looking in every direction for either lost  
body. She quickly dove back under, her eyes scanning through the cloudy  
green the water. Now both persons were missing, and Claudia was filled  
with another overwhelming sense of panic. The stray thought that once  
again crept into her mind was that of the sharks. No, no sharks here,  
no�

        "Ben?!" Claudia  
shouted into the very light, cold wind. No answer. "Ben!" she  
cried. Her feet were still kicking, keeping her afloat on the water.  
She would be fine, she could see the dock from where she swam, but where  
were the other two?

        A loud splash ten feet  
away from her was the reassurance she received. At last, Fraser popped  
up from the water, taking in huge breaths of air. Basketed beneath his  
left arm was Francesca, although she did not appear to be conscious.  
Claudia quickly swam to him, following his lead to the wooden dock about  
20 feet away. Claudia saw she would be unable to help carry the person  
that Ben was bringing to safety, so she did the next most helpful thing  
� she retrieved his hat from the water. Claudia grabbed the Stetson  
and swam to the dock, where Fraser was already doing his best to lift  
Franny up onto landing. Claudia reached the wooden boards, pulled herself  
up onto it, and turned around to help lift Francesca up. The two of them  
managed to drag her limp body onto the dock with some effort, and then  
Claudia extended her hand to help her Godfather climb up as well.

        "Franny," Claudia  
said, shaking her arm. Francesca didn't stir. Fraser placed his hand  
on her neck and found her pulse, relieved. He leaned her head back, opened  
her mouth, and listened for any breath. There was none. Claudia leaned  
back to stay as much out of the way as possible. Fraser checked to see  
if there was an obtrusive object blocking her airway. There was nothing,  
so it must have been water trapped in her lungs. Typical of the hero  
he was, he bravely began mouth to mouth resuscitation. Fraser leaned  
down, tilted her head, lifted her chin, and pinched her nose shut. Fraser  
leaned down and breathed into Francesca's mouth. He waited a moment,  
then let out another breath.

        "One one thousand,  
two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand, breathe."

        "...Twenty seconds..."  
she told him as she continued to time one minute in her head. Ben gave  
Francesca another breath. And another. And another. Still, she was not  
revived.

        "That's almost a  
minute," Claudia told him. "I should call EMS. Where's a phone?"  
Fraser leaned down and listened for a breath. Still none. Her pulse was  
still beating strongly, however. A little fast even. He tilted her head  
back again and continued resuscitation.

        Suddenly, Fraser's arms  
released the hold supporting Francesca's head and he tried to jerk backwards.  
Claudia's eyes shot upward to the top of Ben's head just in time to see  
Francesca wrap her two hands around the Mountie's shoulder's, clutching  
him tightly against her. Claudia's jaw dropped.

        Francesca had one hand  
in Fraser's hair, holding his lips to her own. "Francesca!"  
Claudia cried, mortified. Fraser was now visibly struggling, appalled,  
pushing as hard as he could against the docks to break free. At last  
he managed to slip away from Franny's grasp, quickly shooting to his  
feet, severely embarrassed.

        Francesca sat up slowly,  
a large, contented smile on her face. The younger Canadian was staring  
at her wide-eyed, absolutely horrified. The older Canadian had broken  
eye contact and was looking down to the wooden boards beneath his feet,  
his cheeks a visible shade of abashed pink.

        Francesca took a deep  
breath before she spoke. "That was the best rescue I ever had."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **Epilogue**

The recently-released hostages barely made it through the door of the  
Vecchio home before they collapsed on the couch and were smothered with  
dozens of hugs and kisses from each member of the Vecchio tribe. Both  
women were covered with horrible filth, cuts needing to be tended to,  
and tattered clothing, yet it did not seem to slow down the welcome they  
received. Maria Vecchio was nearly in tears when she brought her younger  
sister into a hug and held her there. Mrs. Vecchio had already begun  
pampering Benton's Goddaughter with pity, food, and warm clothes. Maria's  
kids were crawling all over Claudia and Francesca, wanting to know what  
it had been like, did they have to walk the plank, did Claudia beat up  
the bad guys. The women sank into the soft comfort of the couch, the  
feeling of safety and contentment too great and satisfying to describe.  
Fraser made himself comfortable on a nearby sofa, overcome with relief  
and also fatigue. Mrs. Vecchio soon supplied the adventurers with platefuls  
of food, much to their satisfaction.

It was difficult to tell their tale to the curious family members through  
mouthfuls of warm baked ziti, but they managed to explain everything  
up to the part about when the bullets began flying for a second time,  
and they saw Dewey and Ray being shot. The adults appeared just as fascinated  
as the young kids clinging Francesca's feet. However, their narrative  
was cut short as Mrs. Vecchio took control.

"My figlias, it is time for you to sleep. You have had more of an  
adventure than any two women need in a lifetime. You may finish your  
story tomorrow morning, I promise you we will all still be here to listen."  
The women gave little resistance, as they were very much aching for real  
beds to sleep in. The two were escorted up the stairs, helped into pajamas,  
and put right to bed. They fell fast asleep, soaked in a mattress and  
sheets for a change, rather than concrete and tarp. Outside the bedrooms,  
Mrs. Vecchio spoke with the Mountie.

"Oh, caro," she said, touching her hand to Benton's face. "Thank  
you, thank you so much for bringing my baby back home safely."

"Your quite welcome," Fraser replied quietly. The strenuous  
events of that day were beginning to take their toll on him.

"Can you imagine, those horrible things they put our babies through,"  
Ray's mother said with the spite of a protective mother tiger. Fraser's  
eyes glanced into the guest bedroom, where Claudia was fast asleep, wrapped  
tightly in her blanket. Mrs. Vecchio caught Fraser's glance and looked  
to his sleeping Goddaughter.

"Must be the best sleep she's had in a while," she told him.  
Fraser looked down at the woman and smiled.

 

        Francesca and her younger  
companion returned to work the following Monday. To their subtle dismay,  
no one appeared to notice when they entered the station. No heads turned.  
No eyes gave them a second look. They glanced at each other, a little  
confused, very disappointed. Francesca gave a loud cough. Her patience  
diminishing, she spoke up loudly, "We're back!"

        Work ceased. No noise  
crossed the floor. The two looked around expectantly. Then without warning,  
every single person in the twenty-seventh district began to cheer for  
them.

        Francesca grinned. Claudia  
saw that bunches of balloons popped up from hidden places beneath desks,  
and blushed. Every officer had their eyes on the two, all of them clapping.  
They couldn't help but smile.

        "Hey�"  
Ray said, approaching the two. He extended his good arm and wrapped his  
sister in a half-hug, his right arm still restricted by the sling. "Good  
to have you back, sis." It was also a huge relief, although he didn't  
want to give Francesca the satisfaction of admitting it.

        "Hey, dork,"  
Ray said, bringing Claudia into a hug as well. Claudia couldn't help  
but smile again.

        "Hey, Thundercat,"  
she retorted in reference to his hair, being mindful of his broken arm  
as she returned the hug. "Miss me?"

        "Uh-huh," he  
said slyly. "Here, there's someone else who missed you, too,"  
he added. He pointed behind her and Claudia turned around. There stood  
E.J., arms extended, holding a large, smiley-face balloon for her best  
friend.

        "Eej!" Claudia  
cried, followed by more hugging.

        "Ah, Claud�"  
E.J. said into her ear. "Don't scare me like that again!" Claudia  
laughed. The girls released each other, and Claudia let out a contented  
sigh.

        "I was afraid you  
guys didn't notice we were gone," Claudia told Ray. She noticed  
Lt. Welsh was coming across the room to welcome them as well.

        "It was chaos without  
you two, man," Ray said. "By the way, you've got your work  
cut out for you. We didn't know what to do with the papers as they came  
along, so you'll be busy for awhile." Claudia and Francesca looked  
over and spotted their desks, which were buried under a mountain of paperwork.  
Each of them groaned.

        "You might like  
this, though," the Lieutenant spoke up, producing a rectangular  
white box from under his arm. He handed it to Claudia. "We felt  
bad, so we chipped in and bought this for ya." Claudia looked at  
the box in her hands cautiously. She looked around at her audience, consisting  
of Ray and Fraser, E.J., the Lieutenant, Huey, and several blue shirts.  
Claudia raised an eyebrow and removed the red ribbon from the box. She  
lifted the lid and gasped.

        "Oh, wow!"  
she cried. Claudia lifted the blue shirt from within the box and held  
it up in the air, examining it. "Is it�?"

        "Yes, it's real.  
Your very own 'Civilian Aid' shirt. You're official now, Claud,"  
Ray told her. Claudia inspected the patch reading her new title and beamed  
with pride.

        "Wow�"  
she breathed. "Does this mean I�.?"

        Welsh shook his head.  
"Nope. You still don't get paid."

        Claudia let out a small  
whimper, but proudly kept the shirt in her arms nonetheless.

        "Oh yeah, I forgot  
to tell you guys," Welsh started again, stealing everyone's attention  
away from Francesca and Claudia. "I talked to Dewey."

        Silence rolled over the  
murmuring crowd. "And?" Ray prompted.

        "He's decided to  
stay," Welsh announced. The news pleased everyone, including E.J.,  
who looked up and grinned to herself.

        "It's good to have  
everything back to normal," Ray said to Fraser as the officers all  
faded back into their work. Claudia and Francesca returned to their desks  
and jumped into their work. They were followed by E.J., who reluctantly  
offered to help out Claudia with her paperwork.

        "Yes, it is,"  
Fraser agreed, accompanying Ray back to his desk also. "Well,"  
Fraser began again, "relatively speaking."

        "Well, yeah,"  
Ray replied. "Normal for us, that is."

        "Yes," Fraser  
agreed. "Normal for us."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
June 7th, 1998  
Ashley  
Calvert (calvinball1968@usa.net)  
Ashley Sametz (CKRs.chik@trust-me.com)


End file.
